


late night (when you need my love)

by whisperedwords



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Insomnia, M/M, Multi, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Post-Movie, Pre-OT3, mild PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-02
Updated: 2016-01-02
Packaged: 2018-05-11 02:33:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5610643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whisperedwords/pseuds/whisperedwords
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lately, Poe Dameron has been having trouble sleeping.</p><p>It’s nothing he hasn’t really experienced before—a few of his earlier missions had been close calls, missions that had General Organa on his ass for days about safety concerns and mental wellbeing—but nonetheless, it’s still utterly exhausting to lie awake night after night, staring at the ceiling, praying for sleep to come. Things have calmed down at the Resistance base ever since Rey had left to find Luke Skywalker, which means there are fewer flights that he’s required to be present for. It’s a blessing, he knows. But it doesn’t stop him from tossing and turning in bed, reliving every second that Kylo Ren spent thumbing through his mind like a file cabinet, waking in the middle of the night drenched in cold sweat with half a scream caught in his throat.</p><p>It also doesn’t help that lately, he’s been entertaining two people who seem to be oblivious that he’s madly in love with them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	late night (when you need my love)

**Author's Note:**

> HI I'M TRASH. i can't stop thinking about finn and rey finger-combing poe's hair and honestly, it's breaking my damn heart. please forgive my need to write mild angst and fluff in the same fic. it's really a bad habit. (unbeta'd, i dont own any characters etc etc dont sue my a$$ @disney) ((also dont @ me about the title okay, please, i'm just a girl))

Lately, Poe Dameron has been having trouble sleeping.

It’s nothing he hasn’t really experienced before—a few of his earlier missions had been close calls, missions that had General Organa on his ass for  _days_  about safety concerns and mental wellbeing—but nonetheless, it’s still  _utterly_  exhausting to lie awake night after night, staring at the ceiling, praying for sleep to come. Things have calmed down at the Resistance base ever since Rey had left to find Luke Skywalker (it still blows his mind that Luke—and  _all_  of the stories—are real. The legends of countless Jedi knights, the concept of the Force itself—it’s absolutely enthralling to him), which means there are fewer flights that he’s required to be present for. It’s a blessing, he knows. But it doesn’t stop him from tossing and turning in bed, reliving every second that Kylo Ren spent thumbing through his mind like a file cabinet, waking in the middle of the night drenched in cold sweat with half a scream caught in his throat.

It also doesn’t help that lately, he’s been entertaining two people who seem to be oblivious that he’s  _madly_  in love with them.

Finn and Rey are absolute treasures. Poe’s not entirely sure where he’d be without them—maybe dead? He prefers not to think about that. He’d bonded with Finn immediately, what with the whole “you saved my life, i’ll save yours” thing going, and his heart won’t stop  _hammering_  every time they spend time together. But his relationship with Rey had been more gradual...more hesitant. They met briefly, after Starkiller had been destroyed (he remembers hugging her so vividly, despite the fact he didn’t even know her  _name_  yet), but he’d encountered her later on that day, when he walked in on her sitting at Finn’s bedside. He doesn’t know what had made him brave enough to join her, but he’s glad he did it. Being around Rey makes him feel warm inside.

And god, when they’re together, he feels like he’s floating on clouds. Rey and Finn are so good at making him smile effortlessly, so good at keeping him distracted from his nightmares and fears during the day that most days, when he heads back to his room for the night, he’s almost completely forgotten about the night before.

(Of course, he hasn’t. Not really. Not in any way that matters.)

But he keeps going. He keeps moving, keeps pushing, because his friends need him and his  _base_  needs him, and hey, someone has to be Atlas and carry all this weight. He’s the best pilot the Resistance has. How can he shrug that off?

One evening, though, it all seems to catch up with him in the mess hall. Jess has been talking about a mission she’s got planned for half an hour, and he loves her, he  _does_ , but his brain is fried from lack of sleep, and the soup he’d been eating is warming his insides. His eyelids feel like they’re made of lead. They keep closing on their own accord, and he wants to stay awake, but it’s too late. His head dips so that his forehead is resting on the cool metal of the table, and he sleeps for about ten minutes before the first nightmare strikes him awake. Poe lurches awake, almost toppling backwards off the bench, and Jess laughs for a few moments before realizing that Poe’s expression is mangled in horror. The laughter dies away instantly.

“Hey, Dameron. You okay?” She rests a hand on his shoulder for comfort, and though he doesn’t flinch away, it still feels like fire. He shakes his head once, smiles tightly, and then turns and bolts toward his room without another word, not really caring about the rest of the fleet’s reaction. He’ll explain later, eventually. Probably. For now, he just—he just needs to—frankly, he doesn’t know  _what_  he needs, but he knows that his room will provide it.

Of course, the universe decides to pull one over his eyes, because when he bursts into his room, half-staggering and entirely unfocused, Finn and Rey are sitting crosslegged on the floor, beaming up at him from around their game of HoloChess.  _Shit. Game night._

He wants to smile and sit down with them, or apologize for forgetting, or really  _anything_ , but he can’t manage to do more than just look at them. It’s Finn that notices first.

“Are you okay, Poe?” His voice is gentle, and god  _dammit_ , Poe needs to stop being in love with him because it drains him even more. It’s not until Finn gets up and moves towards him, fear clearly present in his expression, that Poe realizes he hasn’t responded. Finn’s hands rest gently on his arms, as if trying to steady him.

“Poe...” Rey’s voice is quieter from behind Finn, and as she pushes herself to her feet, Poe can see the realization in her eyes. She knows exactly what’s going on. Flickers of recognition appear in Finn’s eyes, too, and damn. They know him so well. (How is it possible, he wonders, for them to have come from three completely different lives and still be so in sync? It makes his chest tighten up.)

Wordlessly, Finn and Rey link arms with him and walk him gently over to his bed, where he sits down heavily. Finn settles right next to him—Rey next to Finn. It’s quiet for a moment, but Poe figures he’s gotta speak up at some point.

“Can’t sleep.” It’s a gruff admittance, one he’d never really made out loud. He pauses, the rest of the words drying out his mouth. “I keep...remembering Starkiller.”

Finn wraps his arms around Poe, then. It’s nice—his arms are warm, and listening to the sound of his breathing up close is relaxing. He melts into it, nestling closer and closer until he’s sprawled out over Finn’s lap. Rey smiles down at him softly and runs a hand over his cheek. He can see the sadness glittering behind her eyes. When she runs a hand through his hair gently, untangling the mess it had been for the past few days, Poe lets himself go completely. Finn’s hand is warm on his side, resting gently, tracing gentle patterns over his thin undershirt.

“Is there anything we can do?” Rey asks, her voice soft as she continues to comb through his hair with her fingers. Every few strokes, her nails scratch his scalp, and it’s soothing, it’s so  _soothing_. Poe’s not sure he’s ever been this tired before, lying in the arms of his best friends.

“This ‘s fine,” Poe mumbles, his face smushed between Finn and Rey’s thighs. He hears Finn laugh a little, feels Rey rest her free hand on his forehead.

Poe falls asleep in no time. (He doesn’t really dream—but when he wakes up, his two best friends are curled up next to him in bed. He can’t bring himself to complain.)


End file.
